Tense. Things were tense, teetering on the edge of a cliff. Storms always gave Charlotte this feeling. While the sky was blue, she could feel it approaching, and so could the animals. The air was charged with static electricity, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Everything had been unnaturally calm and still, and now wind the wind had started to pick up, rustling the branches and bushes. And a change was coming, things were about to shift; she’d felt it coming since the moment Taylor had showed up in the barn. So she was going to squeeze every last drop of vivaciousness out of what she had now.

A sharp noise caught Charlotte’s attention immediately, as the streets were strangely quiet. Riot, the large black wolf she’d raised from a cub, stopped in his tracks besides her, both human and companion looking around. Riot moved forward to a trashcan beside the sidewalk, and a blur of fur sped out from behind it. As the blur slowed down in front of the Tippy Creek Diner, it took the shape of a mutt puppy that very, very strongly resembled a German Shepherd. Charlotte smiled and jogged forward, Riot at her side. The puppy shied slightly at first, but then the obviously stray puppy stepped forward to greet the new pair, barking at several passers-by who he seemed to think were getting a little too close to their little group. Charlotte glanced up to the diner to see a little girl watching them as Riot nosed the little puppy in a friendly manner.

After a moment of getting acquainted, Charlotte scooped up the puppy. It seemed content to stay in her arms as she climbed the two or three steps from the sidewalk to the door to the diner. The owners welcomed animals, as long as they wouldn’t be running wild through the kitchen and barking their heads off. Plus, Charlotte was very good friends with them. She pushed open the door with her back, letting Riot go inside ahead of them.

Charlotte whistled as Riot took trotted forward, headed for a little girl with a peanut butter sandwich smeared on across her face, the same one had been looking at them through the window. He glanced back to Charlotte as he reached the girl, but he began pushing his nose against her hand in hopes of getting attention. Charlotte frowned and whistled a second time, and Riot turned around and returned to her side reluctantly as she walked up to the man with a slightly apologetic expression, the puppy still in her arms.

“Sorry about that. He may look a little scary, but he’s rather pathetically non-fierce.” As to prove her point, Riot pushed his head into the man’s hand, asking to be pet. Charlotte smirked down at him before returning her attention to the man. She didn’t recognize him, which was odd for it being such a small town. “I’m Charlotte Verne, by the way. I’d shake your hand but…” She shrugged her shoulders to indicate the puppy in her arms, who had now turned onto his back and was viewing the whole scene upside down, his tongue hanging out slightly as he panted. Charlotte smiled again and looked back to the man. “So are you two new in town?”

Life is not a spectator sport. Win, lose, or draw, the game is on. So go ahead: argue with the ref, change the rules, cheat a little, take a break and lick to your wounds. But play. Play hard, play fast. Play like there's no tomorrow. It's not whether you win or lose, it's how you play the game. So grab it by the horns, seize the day; take your pick of the metaphors, but get out there and don’t hold back.